


Daydreams Beneath Night Skies

by Shirimikaze



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Animal Transformation, Crushes, Fluff, M/M, Quidditch, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, brief mention of chan because I love him, changbin is basically nocturnal, inb4 someone calls me a furry, this is EXTREMELY SOFT I'm warning you, this is the most self-indulgent mountain of words I have churned out thus far, two whipped boys with disastrous sleep schedules try to figure their love lives out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-04-04 11:15:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14019087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shirimikaze/pseuds/Shirimikaze
Summary: The duties of prefects in Hogwarts included patrolling the castle hallways during night time and apprehending any student that would dare to loiter outside of their dorm.Changbin was apparently horrible at his job, seeing as a particular boy had managed to trespass into his heart without much resistance to speak of.





	Daydreams Beneath Night Skies

**Author's Note:**

> the biggest of thanks to the dearest [@SEpupppupp](https://twitter.com/SEpupppupp) for agreeing to read through all of this on such short notice and for always giving me super detailed and super soft opinions on my writing !!

Jisung was dragged away from his dreams by a cause he couldn’t clearly pinpoint in his current sleep-enticed state. It took a few disoriented blinks to finally grasp the source of the unfamiliar weight dipping his mattress. A whole Lee Minho was casually sitting on the edge of Jisung’s bed as if it wasn’t the dead of night, calmly staring at him with the faintest flicker of impatience resting on his expression.

His gaze didn’t even waver when Jisung let out an appalled gasp. Jisung propped himself on one elbow and placed his free hand over his chest in an attempt to display just how much he disagreed with Minho’s existence at that exact moment. “You have no damn soul,” he began, still trying to regain his cool. “What time is it, even?”

“Time is a man-made concept and holds no substantial value,” Minho stated with leisure that made Jisung wish to sharply shove him off the bed, “but 2AM, if you still insist on knowing.” Jisung now definitely wanted nothing more than to hear Minho gracelessly thump on the floor. He couldn’t quite summon a stern glare in his sleepy state, but he hoped the tired squint of his eyes conveyed sufficient malice.

Jisung opened his mouth to let some crucial questions out in the open, but Minho’s answers arrived unprompted. “I can’t sleep,” he uttered. “Come chill outside with me. We can drop by the kitchens on the way back. I haven’t had pumpkin pasties in a while.”

“Minho dearest,” Jisung clapped a hand over Minho’s shoulder, channeling effort into keeping his voice at acceptable volume levels, “it’s two o’clock in the morning.”

Any and all implications beneath that declaration flew right over Minho’s head and straight out of the room. “Did I stutter?” A vexed groan escaped Jisung. He lay back down once more and was just about to drape his blanket over his head to block out this entire nonsense when Minho continued, “I’m telling Seungmin you throw your dirty Quidditch robe on his bed when you come back from practice.”

Jisung contemplated this prospect for a few seconds, gaze stuck on the ceiling. He had an alarming number of memories of Seungmin jinxing him due to his lack of tidying habits, and they were all resurfacing in his mind simultaneously. At some point Jisung dropped the blanket, burying his face in his hands instead. “You have the attitude of an actual toddler,” he muttered, words muffled.

“A rather convincing toddler,” Minho replied with the smile of a winner. “Up you go, now.”

 

 

 

Sneaking out of the dorm went, unsurprisingly, without a hitch. The first tides of exam season had already flooded everyone’s minds. It would have been difficult to find someone who hadn’t been dead asleep after another day of demanding classes.

After quietly crossing the stairs leading out of the Slytherin dungeon, Minho was the first to poke his head out into the hallway. His eyes flitted in every direction at least a few times. When he was certain no prefect was patrolling in the vicinity, he tapped Jisung on the shoulder to give him the sign. The two of them swiftly rushed in the direction of the nearby courtyard, and, after a single confident jump in the air, morphed into two elegant felines that noiselessly dashed down the stone hallway.

Becoming animagi and learning how to transform into animals at will had been one of the best choices Minho and Jisung had made during their stay in Hogwarts. Granted, they only used it for mischief, but chasing after thrills wasn’t a bad philosophy to live by at the age of careless youth. Their cat forms made it much easier to navigate the castle in the dark and to hear approaching footsteps. Thus they managed to reach the exit leading outside without hurdles, the chills of the spring night air making any remnants of sleepiness dissipate.

As the felines sprang from the stone steps onto the grassy patch of the courtyard, they morphed back into their default states of two young rascals, landing on their backs on the soft ground with dull thuds. When he felt the gentle blades of grass lightly tickle his neck and let the fresh air embrace him, Jisung suddenly lost every reason he may had had to complain to Minho about dragging him outside. The constellations overhead blinked down curiously at the two boys.

Jisung and Minho soaked in silence for a while. The customary stress crawling through the student body at the beginning of a new semester hadn’t evaded them either, despite frivolous facades. Jisung had half the mind to ask whether those were the roots of Minho’s sleepless nights. The older most likely wouldn’t have answered honestly anyway; displaying worry tended to pain him more than the concerns themselves.

The serenity was broken by the consistent sound of footsteps atop stone floors gradually increasing in volume. Minho and Jisung’s immediate reactions were to share a look of panic. The two boys reverted back to their feline forms and quickly retreated to the nearest shadow skirting the edges of the courtyard. They bore their eyes into the entrance they assumed the approaching sounds to come from, waiting.

A single boy appeared from the dark insides of the indoor castle corridor. The blue and bronze proudly lining his robe was enough to show which house he belonged to. Minho and Jisung didn’t quite need hints regarding the newcomer’s identity, however. They wouldn’t have been able to mistake the Ravenclaw Quidditch team’s prized seeker even without the sharpened senses of their animal forms.

Seo Changbin, seventh year Ravenclaw prefect, headed to the fountain in the middle of the courtyard and sat on its edge. The way he was mindful of his robe, careful not to crease it even at such ungodly hours where nobody would bear witness, needlessly meticulous, for some reason entertained Jisung. What would had usually come out as an amused snort, though, in this form found its way out as a faint meow.

The sound, in spite of being rather quiet, managed to capture Changbin’s attention. The Ravenclaw squinted at the shadows of the covered passageways lining the courtyard. He seemed to had made out the lines of the two figures in hiding, seeing as he reached out a hand in invitation and made the typical sounds you’d call a cat with.

Jisung could feel his lifespan decreasing right there and then. Minho shoved him with a paw in distress and straight up dashed towards the inside of the castle. Jisung was puzzled at the rapidity of everything, dead set on whacking his upperclassman over the head with his own broom after they returned to the Slytherin dungeon without trouble. Before Jisung could follow suit, though, one confused glance in Changbin’s direction kept him rooted to his spot.

The lines of the Ravenclaw’s face spoke of melancholy. His lower lip was jutting the slightest bit out, a shadow of a pout. Jisung was used to associating the name Seo Changbin with brimming confidence and excellence, yet in front of him stood a boy whose eyes bore worry.

Paws softly pattered towards the fountain in the middle of the courtyard. That pout seemed to fade the more the distance between them shortened, and when Jisung was finally within an arm’s length, a smile quirked the edges of Changbin’s lips upwards. “Hello there,” the prefect said in a soft voice as he caressed the top of the cat’s head, even scratching it behind the ears a bit, “would you happen to be someone’s pet?”

To say that Jisung expected this turn of events would had been a lie. To say that he was confused – an understatement. And all of that bewilderment only intensified when Changbin reached for Jisung with both hands, lifting him up. “Did you get lost, little buddy? It’s okay,” he carried on. The caresses and scratches promptly resumed when the feline was comfortably settled in the prefect’s lap.

Possibly the last thing on Jisung’s agenda for the night had been to be used as a plushie by a boy he was barely familiar with, but, realistically speaking, it wasn’t exactly the worst development either. Changbin seemed quite delighted. And, to be fair, Jisung barely got pampered by his roommates under normal circumstances. It didn’t feel half bad to be spoiled a bit.

Jisung tried throwing a look at the entrance to the hallway he had sneaked out from (at least as much as his current position and the hand running through his fur allowed him to) and sure enough, the small spotted head of Minho’s Bengal cat form was peeking out from the corner, simply observing the absurdity unfolding. The teasing that would ensue after this night already managed to give Jisung a headache in advance.

The boy kept on snuggling Jisung for a solid while, occasionally cooing at how soft the feline’s fur was. Soft. That was the exact word to describe Jisung’s animorph form -- a small silver shorthair tabby with light eyes that glimmered when they met moonlight. With how he had even started purring at some point, he expected to fall asleep like that any moment, comfortably sprawled over the Ravenclaw’s lap.

The hand that caressed Jisung stopped moving, simply resting on his head. A deep sigh snapped him from his sleepy reverie. “I want to be a cat,” he heard Changbin say. “You don’t feel your soul leave your body during exam season, do you, little guy,” the prefect noted while lightly poking Jisung’s cheek with his pointer finger.

 _If only you knew, man_ , Jisung wanted to mutter, but his intentions once again manifested as a simple meow. Changbin apparently appreciated the humble input regardless, giving Jisung’s chin a few scratches in acknowledgement.

Another sigh laced with heavy thoughts left Changbin’s lips. He leaned forward, just enough to be able to embrace the cat in his lap, much like one would wrap their arms around a stuffed toy. “I can do this,” he began speaking, “I’ve been a good student for over six years now.” Jisung could almost hear the pout in his tone. “My thoughts have just been all over the place recently. Concentration is a myth.”

Jisung wasn’t mentally or spiritually prepared to facilitate a whole emotional monologue, and to be frank, with the way he was smushed in Changbin’s arms, he had reason to harbour concern over whether he’d suffocate in the near few minutes, but he wasn’t about to rebel during someone’s venting session; that would’ve been rude.

“Like, I get it, our house can get pretty annoying during Astronomy class. I’d want to jump off the tower if one of my students said that stars are just celestial dandruff too. But did the professor seriously have to give us ten parchments worth of homework? Felix almost tackled me to the ground after I had to ask him for three ink pots.”

Seconds and minutes steadily trickled by until what felt like an entire hour melted between frustrated tales of prefect duties, Quidditch practice blunders and weekend group study session struggles. The more this rant progressed, the more Jisung felt tempted to morph back into his human form just to be able to pat the guy on the back in some haphazard attempt at comfort, maybe even drag him back to his dorm to take a nap.

At first, Jisung mainly latched onto Changbin’s words to avoid the tempting clutches of sleepiness. After some moment he couldn’t exactly pinpoint, however, he had begun paying active attention to this train of thought, sporadically offering a supportive meow when Changbin was particularly fervent about some detail in his musings.

“At least this year’s Quidditch cup is soon,” he said eventually, and his tone felt more light-hearted. “Silver linings, silver linings.” Jisung’s couldn’t really see much of what was happening from his current vantage point, but with the way those words were voiced, he imagined that was how a smile would sound. Changbin’s mood was much better compared to a while ago.

Jisung wasn’t left to his thoughts for long before Changbin once more grabbed him with both hands to lift him up. “I should probably go before someone catches me slacking,” he said, holding Jisung up at eye level. “Bye bye, little guy. I appreciate the company,” Changbin finished off with a smile too sunny to be beneath a night sky before gently putting Jisung on the ground and patting him on the head one last time. Jisung stood still to observe the prefect retreat until his figure got engulfed in the shadows of the castle.

 

 

 

_Jisung’s first memory from his fifth year in Hogwarts was of him rendering everyone at the Quidditch tryouts speechless._

_The captain of the Slytherin team had asked him to try every position for the sake of conjuring a more apt assessment of his skills. Stamina, agility, technique -- all stats were at a level that allowed him to do well regardless of where he had gotten placed. But it was when he had gone head to head with the current seeker of the team that he had caught all eyes on the field, almost effortlessly surpassing him in speed. The surface of the snitch felt smooth in Jisung’s palm._

_The first term of the year had been spent in intense practice. He had been told by his captain that he had immense potential, that he’d be a scene stealer in his first game, that their house had a solid chance for the cup that year._

_What he hadn’t been told was that they wouldn’t be the only house with a trick up their sleeve._

 

 

 

Jisung didn’t know what higher force had helped him get out of bed in time for breakfast the following morning. Despite being one of the last from his house to arrive in the Great Hall, Seungmin and Minho had, in some rare instance of being proper friends, saved him food.

The courtyard escapade had left Jisung with a miserable amount of time to dedicate to sleep, hence why he was tempted to just use his plate of mashed potatoes as a makeshift pillow for a power nap. When Minho had the gall to look him dead in the eye and imitate a meow, however, Jisung channelled his last bout of energy into kicking his upperclassman under the table. Seungmin didn’t even flinch at the exchange; he just kept on going through his mail with one hand and spooning porridge with the other.

His gaze gravitated towards the Ravenclaw table. Memories slowly trickled into Jisung’s conscience. He wondered if the way he stuffed his cheeks with mashed potatoes somehow lessened the blush spilling over them.

 

 

 

_An unfamiliar face was amongst the Ravenclaw team that filed into the field. The just as unfamiliar name that the announcer tied to this face as each player was introduced was Seo Changbin; a year above Jisung, apparently. Both houses had new seekers without much information to their names. The crowd was buzzing with curiosity on how the game would unfold._

_Rather than nerves and “what if"s, excitement is what thrummed beneath Jisung’s skin. He looked at Changbin with just as much interest as the spectators in the stands. Their gazes met only for a short-lived moment before the game began and led their attention to the spark of gold flitting through the space in the shape of the tiny snitch._

 

 

 

Be it due to a stroke of luck or a dash of magic, Changbin found it fascinating how he hadn’t been kicked off patrol duty yet. If anyone were to invade Hogwarts, it would, frankly, probably happen right under his nose.

He was a sharp boy.

When he wanted to be.

Around exam season nobody really wanted to be anything but asleep.

Late at night, while leisurely crossing nameless hallways, Changbin was quietly muttering names of herbs and procedures that he assumed would aid him on the Potions exam. His lone companion was the sound of his footsteps echoing through the wide stone hallways. The evenly paced patter of his feet offered a sort of rhythm to organise his thoughts in, and was maybe the compass that kept him from getting lost in the sea of ancient terms sloshing inside his head.

He was going to become an auror. It was a strong childhood dream, carefully nurtured by tales of danger and glory told by his parents. It was the dream that didn’t let his focus stray from excellence in the ranks of one of the best wizarding schools, Hogwarts.

It wasn’t easy. No dream was. Not every day was a blaze of confidence and aspirations. It was in the quiet moments, between the work and oodles of effort, when the sound of silence was near deafening, that the doubts and worries crept in easiest.

It was in moments like these that homesickness rooted itself deepest.

Seven years in the school, Changbin assumed he would had gotten used to the long months bundled together that kept him away from the comforting familiarity of home, the teasing his older sister subjected him to, and the purring of his cat. Yet, late at night, while leisurely crossing nameless hallways, his thoughts wandered as well. He wondered if his family thought of him just as often.

Rereading letters from home usually mended the heart; on most nights, the familiar scent of old envelopes alone helped Changbin feel warm and made a tiny smile play on his lips.

Yet, on some nights, even holding pieces of that cream-coloured parchment his parents wrote on close by wasn’t calming enough for a restless mind. Nights like that were when Changbin was especially thankful for the distraction that patrols could offer, because in earlier years when he hadn’t yet acquired the position of prefect, he would simply spend sleepless nights nestled in his dorm room, tracing invisible patterns on the ceiling, restlessly turning in his sheets to tune out the rumble of his thoughts.

The fact that Chan had graduated last year didn’t really make matters lighter.

An unconditional friendship. The two had met all those years ago on Hogwarts Express; Changbin was a confused to-be first year who had waddled through the wagons with a luggage bag bigger than himself. A boy with a Gryffindor scarf wrapped snug around his neck had cracked open the door of his compartment to offer Changbin a free spot, and the rest was history.

Despite Chan hailing from a different house than Changbin, they had been quite near stuck together. A long stream of time had flown by in the library while the two either studied together or simply practiced the levitation spell on random books to startle unassuming first years. Aside from Chan’s mischievous side that had made it hard to believe he was the older one, with splendid nagging abilities he had almost secured a position as a third parent figure in Changbin’s life as well, but Changbin never quite minded. Chan had always ended his scoldings with a warm hug, after all.

Chan wrote his letters to Changbin on light blue parchment paper, and Changbin kept them tucked alongside his family’s envelopes. The castle felt bigger without him.

Changbin’s thoughts were getting a bit too heavy to carry. The idea of taking a break was enticing.

Near Ravenclaw tower there was a small open courtyard where moonlight calmly pooled. In its center stood an old stone fountain that was enchanted to quietly flow at all times. After heading towards it, Changbin carefully straightened his robe before plopping down on its edge with the intent of laying his melancholy-tinged musings to rest.

Instead of succumbing to relaxation, however, Changbin’s senses sharpened at a low sound coming from the periphery. His gaze flitted towards the general vicinity of the source. His hand subtly reached for the wand hidden in his robe in case of an unpleasant scenario, but once his eyes managed to discern what was hiding in the dark, any tension evaporated immediately.

Two cats were huddled in the edge of the courtyard, making Changbin wonder if he hadn’t startled them. His heart swelled at how small they looked. The prefect slowly extended a hand towards them in the hopes of showing the animals he meant no harm, but unfortunately, one of the cats bolted towards the nearest hallway.

The feline that was left behind looked just about ready to follow suit, and Changbin felt his mood spiral downwards again. It looked just like Changbin’s own cat, the shorthair tabby he had at home, the one he had practically grown up with. The bout of homesickness kept making him feel the slightest bit queasy.

Surprisingly, the startled tabby didn’t run away. It slowly pattered towards Changbin’s outstretched hand, and when the cat was in a close enough proximity, he could feel a tiny smile come to him.

“Hello there,” the prefect said in a soft voice as he caressed the top of the cat’s head, even scratching it behind the ears a bit, “would you happen to be someone’s pet?”

 

 

 

_“Monster rookies" is what the announcer called them._

_Changbin and Jisung were on each other’s tails for the duration of the game; the crowd was in awe of how they could keep up with each other’s speed. Their chases were a sequence of borderline dangerous manoeuvres and broom tricks that made the spectators shortly forget there were other players besides those two._

_The snitch was particularly whimsical that day, often completely disappearing out of sight only to appear on the other side of the field a moment later. Right near the edge of the playing field, where plain ground met the audience stands, the snitch’s wings were buzzing in a single spot, almost taunting the seekers to come after it. And they did._

_Near the goal, though, Jisung sharply pulled back. The risk of not being able to stop himself and crashing into the crowd held him inside the borders of the field. Changbin, however, flew right ahead, gradually loosening his grip on his broom until he eventually let go entirely. “Catch me!” he shouted before diving into the air, arms stretched towards the snitch._

_Everyone in the stands collectively gasped. The announcer’s take on the situation was nothing short of an unintelligible yell. A boy in a Gryffindor robe in the audience stood up in evident distress, immediately pulled out his wand and chanted the levitation spell; his voice even cracked out of panic._

_The spell worked -- it was as if Seo Changbin’s reckless leap froze in time. The one sign that that wasn’t indeed the case was that the boy proudly raised one of his arms. The golden snitch glimmered in his hand and the crowd positively went wild._

_Jisung stared, mouth open in shock. The quick flickers of the snitch in a hand that wasn’t his made the epiphany hit him -- he had lost the game. But it wasn’t frustration or anger that was coursing through his blood. Quite the opposite, even -- he felt fascinated by the other seeker._

_Changbin’s eyes were flitting from place to place, from person to person in exhilaration. Eventually his gaze fell upon Jisung again. When the Slytherin caught Changbin’s eye, a genuine smile bloomed on his lips, a smile so wide it made his eyes crinkle as well. The Ravenclaw didn’t look away, not even after he managed to reach solid ground again and got drowned in hugs and excited shouts by his teammates._

 

 

 

Amidst his monologue about everything and nothing all at once, Changbin had let it slip which nights and what shifts he patrolled in. How and why Jisung remembered trivia like that – he did not wish to dwell on. But he damn well intended to use the knowledge.

Slipping out of the dorm at night alone had been a first time experience. The castle hallways felt a bit bigger and colder without an accomplice by one’s side, but Jisung had weighed his options. He wanted to save himself the teasing that Minho would had inevitably dished out on him had he asked for company. And maybe some privacy to cool his head would do him good.

The grass of the courtyard welcomed Jisung like an old friend, soaking in his abundant thoughts with its soft texture. The tabby cat deftly jumped on the edge of the fountain in the middle of the grassy patch and gracefully lay down, simply waiting.

He must have fallen asleep at some point. Gentle strokes on his fur spanning from his head to his back woke him up. “I didn’t expect to find you again,” he heard in what was unmistakably Changbin’s voice, and surely enough, once he blinked his eyes open after a long yawn, the prefect was sitting right next to where Jisung lay with a small smile gracing his face.

Reasonably speaking, the situation was ridiculous. Changbin was talking to a cat. His sleep deprivation most likely needed month-long hibernation to mend. The lengths at which he could ramble on and on for without getting exhausted were also quite the quirk.

Jisung? Jisung did not heed reason.

The feline languidly stretched before jumping and settling into Changbin’s lap of its own volition. The prefect burst into thorough tangents about impending tests and insufferable workloads, keeping his hands on the cat at all times. (“You know, I have a ball of fluff just like you back at home,” he had mentioned, ruffling the fur on Jisung’s head. “Talking to him calmed me down, too.”) Jisung often got lost between Changbin’s words, in which a hefty load of oddly specific references and personal thoughts were scattered, but he kept on listening anyway.

 

 

 

“Earth to Han Jisung, wake up.”

Jisung wasn’t sure what Seungmin was poking him on the side of the head with. It suspiciously felt like a spoon. He didn’t even find it in himself to be annoyed; his undivided attention rested on the Ravenclaw table in the Great Hall from which his gaze hadn’t moved in a considerable while.

By some whim of fate (or of Jisung himself) the rendezvous at the open courtyard close to Slytherin dungeon and Ravenclaw tower had become a regular occurrence. Jisung’s sleep schedule had gone to hell, but the unadulterated fondness he derived from those moments was more than enough to sustain him.

Seo Changbin’s method of stress-relief was thinking out loud. Courtesy of the string of exams everyone was trudging through, he was a living ball of stress. Thus Jisung’s mental list of Changbin-related trivia had reached impressive lengths in a matter of mere days, and it only continued growing.

Jisung couldn’t help but note all the small tidbits that shaped the Ravenclaw’s traits, such as the way he sat on the edge of that fountain so he would never crease his robe, the dips into a softer tone his voice took when he reminisced about family, the smiles that tinged his lips when he mentioned the upcoming Quidditch tournament, the way he nervously tapped his feet when various woes nibbled at his mind, as well as many more.

Changbin wasn’t necessarily an unsalvageable blabbermouth either. Sometimes stress-relief meant simply stargazing in silence with a feline purring in his arms. Jisung grew to enjoy the quiet nights too.

Often times Jisung’s thoughts gnawed on him. It was a bit of a disillusioning realisation to arrive to; despite Changbin being on Jisung’s mind on a regular basis, to Changbin, Jisung wasn’t much more than a name and a face.

Yet at that exact moment, Jisung, still staring at the Ravenclaw table, couldn’t stave off a silly smile from twisting his lips upwards. While he hoped for many new entries to the Changbin trivia list, he already figured out how it should end. The imperative conclusion, a sum of all the facts before it:

Seo Changbin was undeniably, maddeningly, utterly endearing.

 

 

 

The tingles of nerves and excitement near the end of the first term weren’t only laced with thoughts on how to salvage grades. The annual Inter-house Quidditch Cup garnered most of the student populace’s attention. The honour of kicking off the season lay in Hufflepuff and Slytherin’s hands this year.

The announcer was different this time round. The old one must have graduated. The new voice spilling over the stands was rather monotone, dully listing the name of each player flying into the field.

When it was Jisung’s turn to come out, he thought he could spice things up a bit. He picked up speed to make a quick lap around the stadium before the game was set to begin, a hand outstretched towards the audience and a grin dyeing his features in charisma. When the audience responded with loud cheers, the familiar sense of confidence surged through Jisung’s veins and kept him warm amidst autumn winds rippling the atmosphere.

Of course he was looking out for Changbin’s figure in the audience when he flew past the section in the stands where blue-lined robes were cluttered together. It wasn’t too difficult to notice him, sitting on the first row, light smile on.

A bittersweet fondness swirled in Jisung’s chest. His grin faltered the moment he turned away from the audience, after properly hyping them up, to head back to his teammates. As the quaffle, bludger and snitch were set to be released, he wasn’t nervous. More like up for a challenge.

One last short-lived glance in Changbin’s direction before the game commenced. Jisung was hell-bent, more than ever, on making a damn good game.

 

 

 

The night found Jisung wide awake at some ungodly point in time, staring at his ceiling.

After a tiring Quidditch match and a brief after-party in Hogsmeade, he had wanted to sleep through any and all obligations he had scheduled for the following day, if possible, and forget that the world kept on spinning for at least a while. His crooked sleep schedule seemed to have other plans, however. A long sigh filled the silent room. Dedicating both his daydreams and dreams to a single person had its drawbacks.

The night found Jisung on his familiar path up the stairwell leading out of Slytherin dungeon. He didn’t feel a need to rush anymore; the antsiness of breaking the rules on his own had gradually evaporated through the weeks. Using the animorph skill felt even more simple after regular practice as well; it was the most natural thing, to gracefully traverse the castle in a lithe feline figure.

Jisung expected to be the first to arrive, but as he softly pattered onto the grassy patch of the courtyard, he noticed the reason for his recent messy decisions already soaking in moonlight. It was noteworthy how Changbin was, rather than simply sitting, instead clumsily sprawled over his usual spot, lying facing the sky, an arm limply dangling from the edge, usual propriety cast to hell. Jisung wondered if he’d had a bad day.

Changbin almost fell over into the fountain when he got startled by the feeling of something soft brushing against his hand.  When he saw a familiar tuft of fur loitering in the grass below, a simple snort followed by a tired smile came through.

If Jisung wasn’t too far gone, he might had been a little bit embarrassed by how much simply being in Changbin’s vicinity lifted his spirits. The biggest struggle in these nights wasn’t sneaking out of his dorm, it wasn’t the sleep deprivation, rather it was watching Changbin always get up and leave at some point. His smiles were infectious, his words were soft, and his hugs were so, so warm.

Changbin turned his gaze back to the stars above while giving lazy pats to the top of the cat’s head. Jisung figured this was one of the quiet nights. He calmly settled down in the grass to indulge in the silence and languid caresses, hoping to be some sort of comfort. When many minutes later the sullen aura still hadn’t left Changbin, though, Jisung figured he’d do what he did best – annoy people until they paid him attention. Continuous meowing and light bites persisted until Changbin relented.

He shifted around a bit with a groan, positioning himself so he could pick up the cat. “I’m a fool,” Changbin said, lying on the fountain side, looking at Jisung with a flat expression as he held him up. The cat was silent for a few seconds before letting out a faint _meow_ ; it was intended to sound questioning, but it leaned more towards confused. The prefect sighed, lowering the cat so it could lie on his chest. “We have a match with Slytherin in two weeks,” he carried on, holding Jisung closer, ”and I’ll probably fall off my broom in the middle of the match or something because I’m stupid and I haven’t managed to get over a year-long crush already.”

That was the exact moment Jisung felt all the air leave his tiny lungs.

“I could’ve just gone talk to him after the game last year like a normal person,” Changbin kept on rambling, a pout curving his lips downwards, and Jisung really wanted to stop listening, yet he just _couldn’t_ , “but no, sixth year me thought it was a genius idea to avoid his crush in the hopes it just goes away. Like affection is a cold or something.”

Jisung would had most likely jumped off Changbin and swiftly dashed away if he wasn’t cradled in his arms. Rationality was pushed far back to the shadows of his mind. Pangs of disappointments took the reins and, he never imagined he’d feel like this in Changbin’s presence, but he would had rather been anywhere else in the world at that moment.

“Why’d he have to be so cool at the match today and mess me up like this.” Changbin kicked his feet in frustration, like a petulant toddler. “Damn you, Han Jisung.”

Time stood still. Jisung needed a moment to let that sink in.

Changbin heard a distressed squeak from the ball of fur lying on his chest. “Oh dear, did I squeeze you too hard?” the Ravenclaw asked in a soft voice and slight panic, loosening his hold on the cat. “Sorry, I got fired up over this. But really, is he just that powerful or am I weak like that? All it took was one smile and it was game over for me.”

Jisung didn’t really have any issues with how he was being held. He was simply internally screaming.

There were two purposes for the sake of which Jisung really wished he was in his human form. The first was the priority – to fight Seo Changbin for giving him a yearly dose of stress in the span of a few minutes and for blabbering so much. All those years of sharing a dorm room with Seungmin and jinxing each other would have paid off in a brawl.

The second – for variety’s sake, he wished to at least once be the one to wrap his arms around Changbin instead.

 

 

 

Exam season had finally been done and wrapped up without casualties or battle wounds, but instead of dissipating into peace, the roots of Changbin’s jitters had merely relocated to the impending Quidditch match against Slytherin instead. A few days separated him from the event, and each day that melted away only fueled his habit of overthinking.

He was pretty sure that if any professor caught a glimpse of his work ethic during patrols, he would’ve gotten an earful. Changbin got lost in his thoughts so easily that the job felt more like talking a walk around the castle than maintaining order of any sort.

Quidditch genuinely brought Changbin joy. His entire self brimmed with pride at the thought that his team relied on him and that many people were in awe of his skills. But skills also created expectations. Shouldering both trust and forecasts could get heavy at times.

The variable in this case that could throw everything to hell was just how whipped was he for Slytherin’s seeker. Changbin felt his ribcage become just a bit too tight for his heart every time his eyes caught sight of Han Jisung in the hallways, in the Great Hall or, most nerve-wracking of all, in the stands during Quidditch matches. Being on his tail for the duration of an entire match might just end Changbin.

He feared being rendered utterly blind to the snitch due to how conscious he was of Jisung’s presence. A chill ran down Changbin’s spine at the thought of the Ravenclaw team captain hitting a bludger at him if he wrecked their chances for the Cup because of a one-sided crush.

Only a faint meow snapped Changbin, who had zoned out in the middle of the courtyard, out of his reverie. He smiled; it was a sound that had been offering him comfort for a while now. But the relief instantly drained from his body when it had come to his attention that the figure that approached from the direction of the sound was very much human.

Changbin genuinely hoped he hadn’t let his jaw drop at the view of Han Jisung ambling in his direction with a smile that complimented his features in all the right ways.

“Y-you aren’t supposed to be out here,” Changbin said weakly, wanting nothing more than for the ground beneath him to break apart and swallow him up after his stutter.

Jisung seemed unbothered by the statement. If anything, his smile seemed the slightest bit brighter as he kept on confidently walking forward. “I’m not? Well, you didn’t seem to mind until now,” Jisung replied with a playful tone.

Aside from being shocked and flustered, Changbin was now also confused, and he couldn’t even dissolve in his panic properly in the presence of his crush.

Everything in Changbin’s mind got reduced to inaudible white noise, however, when amidst his stride, Jisung disappeared in the blink of an eye. The only thing in front of the Ravenclaw at that surreal moment was a silver shorthair tabby cat that effortlessly jumped onto the fountain’s stone edge and sat beside him, curiously peering at him with its round light eyes.

Changbin’s heart couldn’t decide between beating straight out of his chest or ceasing any functions altogether.

A fleeting moment was all it took for Jisung to return to the moonlit scene. He sat with his legs leisurely crossed, the span of a hand separating him from Changbin, who still looked frozen as if all cogwheels in his head had permanently halted work. Jisung seemed to understand. He calmly waited for Changbin to piece together the smithereens of his thoughts, never once looking away from the prefect. Jisung’s eyes were the same colour as the tabby Changbin had grown fond of throughout the nights, and Changbin really wanted to turn around and throw himself in the fountain.

“That… that was…” Changbin began, an audible gulp pausing his sentence, and the way Jisung was patiently looking at him was making him melt all over again, “you… all along?”

Jisung’s reply was a single confident nod. Changbin let out a long exhale, slowly taking the situation in stride. “So you also… heard everything,” he uttered, gaze falling towards the soft grass he was nervously scuffing his feet on.

Recollections of him gushing about Jisung to what he assumed was just some student’s pet that enjoyed loitering around the castle flooded his mind and Changbin sincerely hoped the moonlight wasn’t sufficient to illuminate the way his ears were most likely getting red in embarrassment. Changbin buried his face in his hands, “Oh lord, how do you not avoid me like the plague after all of that,” he muttered, words muffled by his palms.

To his surprise, a hearty chuckle reached Changbin’s reddened ears. “I’m here exactly because I heard everything,” he heard Jisung reply in a voice laced with mirth. Changbin felt fingers gently wrap themselves around one of his wrists. “Look at me? Please?” Jisung pleaded, tone as soft as silk, and there was no way Changbin was capable of refusing that.

When the prefect looked up once more, he noticed Jisung lightly gnawing on his lip, the relaxed confidence he had carried himself with until then toned down.  Jisung hadn’t let go of Changbin’s wrist; Changbin hoped that detail remained as it is.

“You…” Jisung started, voice slightly nervous, “you almost suffocated me a few times, ruined my sleep schedule, and made me learn much more about your roommates’ nasty habits than I would’ve ever liked to.” Changbin seemed borderline scandalized and Jisung hurried to carry on before he could get distracted by the Ravenclaw’s pout and permanently miss his train of thought.

“But even after all of that, you’re just unfairly adorable,” Jisung said, and that specific smile that had made Changbin’s mind short-circuit almost a year ago had blossomed on his expression again. “I kind of expected you to hex me after you realized I’ve been coming back to listen to you talk about a ton of personal stuff all these nights, but I really couldn’t help it.”

Jisung let go of Changbin’s wrist to softly take hold of his hand instead. “You probably have no idea how calming your voice is to listen to, and when it gets all soft when you talk about something you love it’s even better. You’re also more thoughtful than anyone I know and I’ll possibly never get tired of you talking about your ambitions because your eyes just get this lively glint in them. I think I have permanent eyebags from staying up so often to catch you on patrol, but honestly, it was all worth it.”

A jittery pause. A deep inhale.

“I really, really like you,” Jisung confessed with a firm voice, albeit slightly shaky towards the end; he looked down to where he was playing with Changbin’s hand to calm his nerves, “So here I am. I enjoyed spending time with you as a ball of fur, but I think I’ll love it even more when I’m like this.” His eyes shifted upwards to meet Changbin’s gaze dead on, “If you want to, that is.”

Courtesy of his older sister who had read too many of those muggle author romance books, Changbin himself was more knowledgeable about those hefty piles of clichés than he’d like to admit out loud. Yet no amount of awareness would had ever prepared him for the way it felt as if his heart had turned to foam and spread a sense of profound affection throughout his entire chest. The corners of his lips almost hurt from how widely he was smiling.

Changbin smoothly laced his fingers with Jisung’s as he asked “Can I hug you?” in a voice brimming with happiness. Jisung’s answer came in the form of two arms tightly weaving themselves around Changbin and cheerful laughter flowing alongside the water of the fountain.

 

 

 

The audience stands of the Quidditch pitch had been entirely filled even before the game had begun. The expectations for the match between Ravenclaw and Slytherin were rather high after the previous year’s spectacle.

Jisung, standing by the walls of the Western castle wing, softly giggled at how he could hear the spectators’ fervent shouts even from such a distance. “Are you nervous?” he asked.

With the way Changbin had his face buried in the crook of Jisung’s neck, Jisung felt rather than saw the way Changbin lightly shook his head in denial. “Don’t think I’ll go easy on you,” Changbin warned, voice deep and confident, yet with the slightest edge of mischief to soften his words.

Jisung had a hearty laugh at the threat. “You’re on. Loser treats the winner to anything he wants,” he proposed, and as always, Changbin really didn’t have it in him to refuse Jisung anything.

Changbin disentangled himself from Jisung’s embrace to place a hand on the back of his neck and lightly pull him in for a slow, gentle kiss. He was tempted to win the bet for the sheer whim of asking for more of Jisung’s kisses, despite the fact that Jisung would most likely indulge him regardless.

They willed themselves to part after a few more sweet touches of their lips, and that was one of Changbin’s favourite moments, the way Jisung always looked at him with such fond eyes after every kiss.

“Come on, our captains will kill us,” Jisung said with a smile, and the two of them took the familiar path to the Quidditch pitch hand in hand.

**Author's Note:**

> me a few weeks ago: huh this is probably gonna turn out around 4k words  
> changsung: bitch you THOUGHT
> 
> hello I am speaking from my seat in rare pair hell, it's comfy down here
> 
> yes, the one that caught Changbin's dumb ass during that quidditch flashback was Chan, the only man I trust
> 
> come yell at me [@shimramyun](https://twitter.com/shimramyun) on twitter! I don't bite (unless you're into that, we can negotiate)


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